12/10/10

A note from the editors: In light of recent events, Ampersand Editor Piers Gelly has chosen to step down from his position and flee the country. If anyone wants to talk about it, they should come find him, because he’ll only be around for a little while longer. Keep calm and carry on.

This year’s Christmas Dinner will be different than in previous years, due to the presence of Dennis Grayling, 56, your mother’s new boyfriend.

“Well, Dennis and I have been getting pretty involved lately,” explains your mother. “Also, his daughter and her fiancée said that they want to have some time to themselves this Christmas.”

“It’s just not Christmas without Dennis’s famous southwest coleslaw,” reports Dennis as he places the plastic container on the platter in the center of the table where the roast beef is supposed to go.

“The secret ingredient,” he discloses, “is bacon.” Dennis wants three things for Christmas this year: his new heartburn medication, tougher immigration legislation, and your mother’s thighs. She punches his shoulder teasingly and you avert your eyes as her attempts to sexily nibble his ear result in her licking his sideburns. “How’s Barber College going, Cowboy?” teases Dennis, who makes it up to you by showing you his tattoo of a Harley Davidson motorcycle above the words, “Spring Break, 1976.”

Over dinner, Dennis talks about the dry cleaning company that he runs with his older brother, that time he went to Miami, and how he’s happy for his ex-wife, despite all the raw shit she put him through. “So Cowboy,” he asks you, “got any special lady in your life?” “No,” you say tersely, prompting him to reassure you about how it will all work out, how you’re a good looking kid, and how forlorn he was after his wife left him, only to find a beautiful new woman who lets him do things his old wife never would.

“I want you to know that I am in this for the long haul,” Dennis says after dinner, tipsily readjusting his Santa hat, “never turn back, that’s my motto.” Maybe it’s not so bad. At least your mother seems happy. But Dennis’s breath smells like Pepto Bismol and you’ve never really felt like a Cowboy. Nonetheless, Dennis understands what you’re going through. He’s a child of divorce himself and, hey, he turned out pretty good.

Dirk: Whoa man. Don’t rag on the stache, bro. I can’t stress enough how much I will teabag you if you talk about my facial hair one more time. And would a hipster wear a huge chain with a dollar sign on it all the time?

Champagne: You’re disgusting.

Dirk: YOU’RE disgusting. This whole fucking country’s disgusting.

Champagne: I’m gonna pack a bowl.

Dirk: So, is it cool if I push our beds together?

Champagne: Pay me $100.

Dirk: Are you kidding? I don’t have that much money. I can barely pay for college and weed.

On Wednesday, a display of remarkable modesty sent six Drawing I students to the Davison Health Center with complaints of whiplash, and a handful to OBHS with renewed feelings of self-doubt and inadequacy. While the unveiling of the class’s nude self-portraits elicited the usual giggles and downward gazes, sophomore Drew Johnson’s charcoal sketch evoked a different response.

“You’ve got to be kidding me!”

“Holy fuck!”

“There’s no way it’s that huge!”

“What thoughtful commentary on the effect of mass media on male body image!”

Johnson’s colossal johnson, disproportionally large for his scrawny 5’6” frame, aggravated and astonished members of the class. Hecklers railed the student for his obvious exaggeration, and those who did not shield their eyes or stare intently at their feet insisted that he prove such endowment.

Johnson conceded to the requests, pulling down his pants to reveal an appendage of gargantuan, inhuman, what-the-fuck proportions. Hecklers choked on their claims, others on tears, and the demi-Priapus led the CFA after tucking it back into his sock.

A trove of classified internal North College memos released by WikiLeaks founder Julian Assange revealed pervasive corruption at no levels of the Wesleyan administration.

“At first we were pretty pissed about the conidentiality breach,” said a North College oficial. “But Wesleyan has no secrets. The only one who’s going to be in trouble is that albino turd, Ass-ange. Get it? Like ‘ass.’ ”

On Thursday, the leaks were disseminated to the ACB and WestCo listserv, where they met with derision and ironic detachment, respectively. Assange has been “bumming around” campus since early this week in the hope that Wesleyan’s reputedly radical student body will recognize his contributions to apolitical anarchy.Students, however, seemed unperturbed by the majority of the leaks, alarmed only that Bon Appetit has been substituting tofu for seitan in an effort to cut costs.

“No embezzlement, no problem,” said Helen Ingalls ’12.

“DGAF/talk to the hand,” said Eli Meixler ’13.

Among the documents released was the entire contents of Medievalist Gary Shaw’s hard drive, which comprised a 2006 Chanukkah wishlist and a cell phone photo of the Sutton Hoo mound. Shaw expressed interest in receiving another Anglo-Saxon dictionary and a then-recent Tracy Chapman release.

PSafe has nevertheless issued a red notice for the elusive Australian, who they currently suspect to be taking refuge in the basement of the Beta fraternity house. In a campus-wide email, PSafe Director Large H. Collider cautioned students that the presence of the INTERPOL fugitive has “renewed [their] concern about illegal and unsafe behavior on Beta’s premises,” and encouraged the community to remain vigilant as long as the “palefaced bitchbicycle” is at large.

Students may be dismayed to find that there will be no coffee next semester.

Pierce Brothers, the company that supplies the campus with fair trade coffee, will leave Wesleyan along with kingpin Piers Gelly ’13, who runs the company with his two younger brothers, Bennett, 17, and Clement, 15.

“Even though I’m really busy with my homework and robotics club, I still find time to help my brothers produce delicious, ethically harvested coffee,” said brother Clement, who is currently a sophomore at the American School in London.

Piers and his brothers began their foray into fair trade coffee production at the respective ages of 12, 10, and 8. On an ecotour of Borneo with their parents, the Gellys were inspired by the warmth and vivacity of the local coffee growers.

“It was really inspiring to see how they made their coffee with love,” said Bennett, who is the power forward of his high school’s basketball team. “After that trip, I could never really look at Starbucks the same way.”

Since becoming disillusioned with traditional coffee offerings, the Piers brothers have provided a wide range of all-natural brews, including the Twix Latte, the Chai Charger, and the Salty Ivan.

“Ivan was a coffee picker we met in Ecuador,” said Piers, who does not drink coffee. “Ivan was salty, but he was a really sweet guy.” Piers chortled as he recalled the irst time Ivan showed him and his brothers the proper bean-crushing technique in the Jipijapa area, Manabí province. “We really learned a lot from that guy.”

Piers and his brothers are sorry to be leaving the campus without adequate coffee.

“You can drink coffee at Espwesso if you want to drink poop,” said Clement.

Bennett interjected, “People at my high school and at Piers’ college agree that our coffee is the greatest.”

Pi Cafe, for the time being, will only serve the disappointing sesame tofu wraps made by rival brother trio, the Gracchus-Gibbonses.